


your love is sunlight

by mooncleo



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Idiots in Love, Jaskier Refuses To Wake Up, Jaskier puts flowers in geralt's hair, M/M, geralt and jaskier are NOT morning people don't let geralt fool you, im not letting that one go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:02:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22884901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooncleo/pseuds/mooncleo
Summary: When they set out for their next destination, Geralt had his hair elaborately braided away from his face. By the time they reached their next destination, there were flowers dotting the braids from when Jaskier had gotten excited as they passed a field full of blooming colors. The flowers fell out during his battle with a graveir, but Jaskier assured him that it was no problem to find more flowers for Geralt’s hair. It was not something that Geralt had been concerned about, but Jaskier’s assurances made him smile anyway (the corner of his lip quirked up, which was practically a fully blown grin).
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 28
Kudos: 399





	your love is sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all like this i did actual monster research for it which in hindsight was probably not necessary

Contrary to popular belief, Geralt was not a morning person. He got up early out of necessity, using an early start to his day to get himself as far along the road as he could. The extra time helped him to travel from village to village and from monster to monster as quickly as possible. Geralt’s particular reputation also meant that it was best for him to spend as little time as possible around humans who might recognize him and refuse him pay, and so early mornings it was. 

Jaskier was also not a morning person. The bard was used to playing late into the night and not waking up until late morning. After all, no one cares for music with their breakfast, and he’d received some particularly bad reactions when he’d tried. Surprising no one, the hungover don’t like loud noises whilst starting their day. It did not matter how softly Jaskier sang, morning concerts were simply not popular. Naturally, the fact that the bard himself was often hungover as well did not help things. 

The first morning they spent together, after being kidnapped by elves and then released in short order, they camped out in a small clearing that they (in this case, Geralt) had found, rolling out their (in this case, also Geralt’s) bedding onto the ground. In the morning, Geralt woke up at his usual time and started to pack up. He decided it would be best to let the bard sleep. The road had been hard yesterday, and there was not much of a chance that he’d spent the night on a forest floor before, judging from his fine clothes. 

Geralt had no way of knowing that Jaskier’s clothing looked that fine because it was just slightly magical, a low-level repellant spell keeping dirt and grime off. Geralt also had no way of knowing that Jaskier had spent many nights in the woods, either unable to make enough to pay for a tavern or on the road between towns. 

Once Jaskier woke up they set out for the road. The bard did not stop chattering at Geralt the whole time they were together, but he found he could endure it if he tuned out some of the bard’s commentary, letting the sounds wash over him as background noise. It was almost nice to have someone other than Roach around. He’d never admit it, but it could get lonely on the road all alone. (Especially when no inn will allow you to stay for the night under the premise of being scared that you’ll go on a killing spree, no better than the monsters those same people hired you to hunt.) They didn’t actually encounter any monsters, but Geralt thought he saw signs of a drowner and he hoped to find a contract for it soon. 

No trouble truly arose for them until it was time to get up on their second day traveling together. Geralt had a schedule to stick to, and one wayward bard was not going to get in the way of it. So when Jaskier refused to get up at “this ungodly hour? Geralt you must be joking. Go back to sleep,” Geralt reverted to more unconventional methods. 

Jaskier landed on the ground, shouting a great deal after Geralt pulled the blankets out from underneath him. He was absolutely indignant and, “Geralt why would you do this to me, I thought we were friends! Oh, look at my doublet, I’ll never get the stains out.” Geralt refrained from pointing out that a) he was sleeping on the ground, in the middle of the woods- what was he expecting? And b) his doublet didn’t have any stains on it at all, and was in fact spotless, which was a tad strange for someone who was sleeping in the middle of the woods. He settled instead for a “hmm” that he felt got his points across perfectly. 

They got to the town they’d been heading towards a week later and it turned out that there was a drowner, as he’d predicted. Geralt beheaded it and for the first time in a long time managed to get a hot bath to wash off the guts that covered him. Jaskier’s newest song seemed to have done some sort of good for his image in the townspeople’s minds, because he wasn’t booed out of the establishment that had hired him. As grateful as Geralt was for this luxury, he still didn’t let Jaskier sleep in the next day. As a result, he was quick to learn that nothing short of a bucket of water would be able to get Jaskier up when he was in an actual bed, and so that was what he resorted to. 

As they got on the road that day, Geralt mused to himself that Jaskier had looked rather like a wet cat that morning, and that Jaskier rather reminded him of a cat in general. He was always seeking patches of sunlight to fall into, and if left alone too long in them he would have to be woken up. He had already broken down most of Geralt’s personal space barriers, brushing up against him and grabbing his arms when he got scared or excited about something. Geralt caught himself thinking that it was rather cute, and had to stop that line of reasoning in its tracks. Witchers had a lot of trouble when it came to relationships, and it only got worse if their partner was human. Geralt wanted that type of trouble for neither himself nor Jaskier. 

They settled into a sort of routine after that, Geralt waking Jaskier up in the mornings using methods that slowly got less harsh as he learned the best ways to entice Jaskier out of bed. It turned out that the smell of food would get Jaskier up in less than ten minutes, which is a far cry from the twenty or more it took when Geralt was upending him from the comfort of a bedroll, oftentimes more than once a morning. By the time they got to their first big city, Jaskier’s songs had already started to travel ahead of them. He wanted to play himself up a little, see how he could do in an inn with more than 3 rooms, see if he could get people’s attention. Geralt fixed the bruxa issue the nobles had, and then needed to move on. They parted ways for the first of many times, wishing each other farewell (Jaskier wished Geralt farewell, Geralt grunted. Jaskier knew what he meant). 

They met and traveled on and off for four or so years, until one night they fell into bed together. It was not as easy as breathing, though Jaskier would describe it so for many years afterwords. They bumped noses and Jaskier fell off the narrow bedding they were on, and it was not perfection the way that it is often described, but it was perfect for them. 

The next morning, Jaskier woke up before Geralt. This was unprecedented, and Jaskier found himself unsure of what to do. If he were not quite as sore as he was, he might consider getting up and starting to pack up their little campsite, but as it was he didn’t particularly want to stand up. He settled for repositioning himself so that he could stroke Geralt’s hair and enjoy the early morning rays of sunshine peeking through the trees. 

Geralt woke up slowly, coming into awareness in the hazy sort of way he hadn’t been allowed since he was very small. He noticed the hands gently running through his hair first, and then the soft sound of singing, not a song that Geralt had ever heard before, but something new and calming. A lullaby, he discovered as he listened, the story of a prince who is also a dragon, and the commoner he falls in love with. Jaskier, evidently, was already awake. 

Upon coming to this realization, Geralt tensed up. Jaskier paused his singing and when Geralt opened his eyes Jaskier was peering down at him, looking slightly concerned. “You-” he cleared his throat. “You can keep singing if you want.” Jaskier beamed at him and resumed his hands moving through Geralt’s hair, starting up the ballad where he’d left off. 

Geralt almost fell back asleep before he realized that if Jaskier was awake, then it was most definitely time to get up. He was then forced to face the reality of the day, and the fact that it was already later than he’d gotten up in years. He also found himself disinclined to go through the effort of getting both himself and Jaskier up. When he finally did start to actually drag his body upwards, Jaskier grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back. 

“No no no no, we don’t need to get up yet. Geralt, be rational. We’ve had a very tiring night. Why don’t we just spend a little bit more time relaxing before starting the day? I think it’s only right that we take the time for ourselves.” 

Geralt felt disinclined to respond beyond a grunt, but he did lie back down. Perhaps a few minutes longer wouldn’t hurt? 

When Geralt and Jaskier broke camp at midday, Jaskier was talking at his usual speed and feeding Roach sugar cubes that he’d stolen at the last inn they’d stopped at. Geralt was contemplating how nice the morning had been, not having to physically drag Jaskier into the upright position (he noted to himself that he also enjoyed the extra rest, though he didn’t want to admit it out loud). They got on their way, setting off down the road as they had many times before. 

It wasn’t until he was in the middle of his next job when he caught a glimpse of a braid that Geralt realized that while he’d been sleeping Jaskier hadn’t just been idly running his fingers through his hair. He confronted his bard about it when they were in their room for the night. He asked if there would be flowers next, feeling slightly vindictive. 

At the mention of putting flowers in his hair Jaskier’s eyes lit up, and Geralt’s mind stopped short. He had simply meant to tell Jaskier that he shouldn’t do Geralt’s hair without asking. Honestly, Geralt liked the braids. They didn’t pull his hair as much as his usual hairstyle and kept it back more effectively. The only reason Geralt didn’t have his hair in braids regularly was that he didn’t actually know how to braid. It wasn’t the sort of thing he had learned at school, in between sword fights and monster lore. 

“I know you were joking Geralt, but you would look lovely with flowers in your hair. Also I didn’t tell you about the braid because you were asleep, and I got bored with your head on my lap. There’s only so much singing one can do before one must find something to do with one’s hands. I was going to tell you before you we got to the village, but then you ran after that kikimore and it was a tad too late after that. Anyway, I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to, you know that.” 

“I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t be opposed. To- to having braids in my hair again. And if. If you wanted to put flowers in it, then I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t say no.” The words came thickly, slowly. Geralt hadn’t ever had much of a way with words, and asking for something as frivolous as braids and flowers in his hair went against his basic instincts that told him not to need anything. 

Jaskier’s expression as he processed that statement was worth the struggle of getting it out. Jaskier looked as though Geralt had just given him a gift, the same expression on his face as when Geralt had bought him a new pair of gloves after their hands brushed and Geralt registered Jaskier’s hands as being several degrees below where a human’s should be. That expression left an odd fluttering sort of feeling in Geralt’s stomach, one that was characteristically reserved for the very beginning of a fight with a particularly difficult monster. 

When they set out for their next destination, Geralt had his hair elaborately braided away from his face. By the time they reached their next destination, there were flowers dotting the braids from when Jaskier had gotten excited as they passed a field full of blooming colors. The flowers fell out during his battle with a graveir, but Jaskier assured him that it was no problem to find more flowers for Geralt’s hair. It was not something that Geralt had been concerned about, but Jaskier’s assurances made him smile anyway (the corner of his lip quirked up, which was practically a fully blown grin). 

Jaskier taking the time to braid Geralt’s hair ended up being a part of their morning routine, and Geralt couldn’t bring himself to regret it, no matter how frivolous his former teachers would have scolded him for being. His bard was always delighted at the opportunity to try something new, and he relished in putting a smile on Jaskier’s face. 

It wasn’t until they’d been traveling steadily together for 9 months that he realized two things. One was that this was the longest they’d stayed together without breaking apart to go their separate ways. The other was that Jaskier had somehow managed to worm the timing of the start of their day down to an hour or so before midday without Geralt noticing. 

They took their time in the mornings, which was not a luxury Geralt had ever afforded himself before. When he mentioned how late they were getting up to Jaskier, he got long eyelashes batted at him and an overly innocent look that told him his bard had known exactly what he was doing. He sighed and gave in, resolving not to mention it again. They traveled on like that for many years afterwards, rising to some level of mythic fame, a love story told by campfires. The hulking witcher with flowers in his hair and the bard that followed him around, sweetly singing songs about their adventures.

**Author's Note:**

> and they lived happily ever after 
> 
> listen I know this basically doesn't have a plot but u know what I wanted fluff with Jaskier braiding Geralt's hair and be the change u want to see in the world 
> 
> comments and kudos lift my soul up please give me that good good serotonin i will love you forever


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